


Hairy High and Low

by Tangerine



Category: X-Men: The Animated Series
Genre: Boredom, Comedy of Errors, Gen, Hair, Heatwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine/pseuds/Tangerine
Summary: In the middle of a heatwave, Jubilee and Gambit set out to find the answer to one of life's greatest questions: just how exactly does Wolverine's hair do that thing?
Relationships: Remy LeBeau & Jubilation Lee & Logan (X-Men)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Hairy High and Low

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rosencrantz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosencrantz/gifts).



Bored and hot beyond, like, what any person, human or mutant, should have to live through, she was watching Wolverine and Cyclops play basketball. Sorta, anyway. Like, it seemed a little too aggressive – they were on their fifth basketball, with a graveyard of deflated orange rubber sitting on the sidelines – but there was a ball and a hoop involved, so she guessed it was close enough. 

"Who's winning, petite?"

"Definitely not the basketball," Jubilee replied as Wolverine stuck his claws through it. 

Gambit snorted, and she grinned. She half-expected him to keep skulking behind her like a weirdo, but he plopped down in the grass instead. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out popsicles, holding them between his fingers like claws. Having raided the fridge earlier, she raised an eyebrow.

"Stolen from the deep freezer," Gambit explained sagely. "Wolverine's secret stash."

She picked the pink one of course. Like there were any other options. As if. "He's gonna be in a bad mood if he loses this game," she warned him, ripping it open and sticking it between her teeth. 

"Eh, Wolverine's always in a bad mood. Consider this the payment for us putting up with it."

"That's totally fair," Jubilee agreed. Friends didn't hide popsicles from friends during a heatwave. 

They sat there for a while, enjoying their stolen frozen desserts. The sixth, seventh and eighth basketballs passed from this life into the next. She had no idea how they were even still playing. It was so hot and humid, and Storm had gone out with Rogue and Jean, so, like, she was no help.

It was only June. It shouldn't be this hot. Jubilee had just about reached her tolerance for freak occurrences. Between the mutant thing and the fact the Professor wouldn't turn on the AC, she was in a rotten mood. And Jubilee had never seen two people sweat so much. It was totally gross. Cyke looked like a drowned rat, which she could barely think about without giggling, and Wolvie...

_Huh._

"Penny for your thoughts, petite?"

"It's kinda ridiculous," she warned.

"Those are the best kind of thoughts," Gambit assured her. 

"You ever wonder how Wolverine's hair, like, does the _thing_?"

"Well, now that you mentioned it..." Gambit said, trailing off, and Jubilee grinned again.

Without, like, Sentinels attacking every other day or Magneto trying to convert them to the dark side, there wasn't much else to do thanks to the heatwave, so dedicating her every waking moment to solving the mystery of Wolverine's hair sounded great. And it _was_ totally mysterious. Even Rogue's hair looked deflated by the heat. Beast hadn't come out of the basement since it started.

Over a rapidly emptying box of Wolverine's popsicles, she and Gambit formed a plan. 

It wasn't a good plan. It probably wasn't gonna work. They were gonna do it anyway.

* * *

Plan A involved coming between Wolverine and hockey, which was, like, a terrible idea, but he'd caught Gambit trying to snoop through his room looking for styling products, so they had had to toss that idea out and replace it with this new one. The Montreal Canadiens were in the Stanley Cup finals. Jubilee still didn't know why Wolverine cared, but something, something, hockey, O Canada.

And trust her, there was no sneaking up on Wolverine, so she and Gambit just barged right on in. 

"Go Kings cuz, like, I'm from California yanno," Jubilee declared boldly, plopping down on the couch before Wolverine could protest. With Wolverine, she'd long ago learned it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission since he usually let her get away with stuff. He was a big softie.

Wolverine sighed. "I don't need either of you jinxing this. Especially you, Gumbo."

"Yeah, don' worry 'bout me," Gambit assured him as he sat down on the other side of the couch, leaving Wolverine in the middle. He met Jubilee's gaze over Wolverine's head and gave her a brief nod. Wolverine's attention was fixed on the TV. "In this case, Gambit is completely neutral."

"Figures," Wolverine grumbled. "Fine. Just keep your commentary to the minimum."

Over the next two periods, she and Gambit pretended to care about the game. It was really hard. To try to act like they gave a crap while also waiting for an opening to, like, fondle Wolverine's hair and make it seem like that was totally not what either of them was doing was just so difficult.

It didn't help that Gambit changed allegiances mid-game when some guy with the last name of Lebeau scored. "He could be a cousin," Gambit protested faintly when Jubilee glared at him.

Twelves minutes into the third period, Wolverine looked sufficiently distracted. She stared at Gambit, who stared back, and through a series of blinks and pointed looks, they came to an agreement. Arms lifting in the air, Gambit yawned as Jubilee leaned forward, no big deal, just needed to fall on Wolverine's head. Between the two of them, one of them was bound to succeed.

But then someone scored, and Wolverine jumped up. Jubilee tipped forward, and Gambit, arms flailing, did the same. Their heads smacked together, leaving them in a dazed lump on the couch. They were still nursing their headaches with ice packs when the Canadiens won the Stanley Cup.

* * *

Plan B involved getting Wolverine wet. Gambit seemed deeply reluctant to corner Wolverine in the shower for whatever reason, Jubilee didn't really get it herself, but Wolverine was a creature of habit. Tuesday, barring surprise Sentinel attack or unwanted Magneto monologues, was Wash The Jeep Day, and that would work just as well. Wolverine would spend hours lovingly scrubbing down his jeep in a very uncomfortable-to-witness way. It was an opportunity they could not pass up.

"The key is to be just competent enough that he don' suspect a thing," Gambit explained wisely.

"Don't worry. We got this," Jubilee assured him. They high-fived before heading outside. 

It was still suffocatingly hot, just so gross, and Jubilee immediately regretted everything.

Wolverine noticed them coming a mile away, eyes narrowing suspiciously as they approached, but whatever, it was too late to back out now. Her head still kinda hurt where she'd banged it against Gambit's, but that was just life as an X-Man, right? Minor injuries, bad ideas, the whole shebang.

"Thought we'd come out and help," Gambit said. "Isn't that right, petite?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "This is just us being, like, mega helpful."

Wolverine sighed. "You ever heard the saying 'with friends like you, who needs enemies?'"

Jubilee gave Wolverine her best puppy-dog eyes. She assumed Gambit was doing the same. 

"Fine. Just don't scratch her," Wolverine said after a long moment. "Or blow anything up. Or catch anything on fire. Or blind me with fireworks," he added, giving her a pointed look. Jubilee rolled her eyes. It had been one freaking time. He turned his glare on Gambit. "And don't steal anything."

"I know better than to try that with you, Wolverine. Nothing you ain't willing to lend out anyways."

"Kinda like all those popsicles you borrowed, Gumbo?"

"Oh, you know about that."

"Yeah, I know about that," Wolverine replied, whipping a wet sponge at Gambit's head. He caught it one-handed, eyes flickering briefly in Jubilee's direction. _Game on_ , his eyeballs seemed to say. Before Wolverine could change his mind, Jubilee grabbed her own sponge and quickly got to work. 

In more ways that one. 

Kicking over buckets wasn't doing anything except piss him off and tossing sponges around like baseballs just resulted in stinging eyes. They both knew getting the jump on Wolverine was, like, totally impossible, but Gambit tried to approach Wolverine from behind with the hose anyway.

The hose never had a chance, and the only ones who ended up soaked were her and Gambit.

* * *

Plan C involved the wind. It probably would have been easier to involve Storm, but neither of them wanted to admit they'd spent almost a week trying to solve the mystery of Wolverine's hair to no avail. Like, they'd had a lot of bad luck and maybe they could just _ask_ him, but... boredom and stuff.

"You should be the one to invite him, petite," Gambit decided. They had previously been using rock-paper-scissors to sort out roles in their badly laid plans, so this was an ominous sign. Gambit must have noticed the look on her face because he added, "You have him wrapped around your finger, non?"

Jubilee sighed. "I mean, yeah, definitely, but he's not gonna like this idea. Not one bit."

"Wolverine is a big boy. He'll get over it," Gambit assured her, famous last words and all that jazz.

They fist-bumped before parting. Gambit headed down to the garage as Jubilee went to the kitchen, trusting Wolverine would be sticking to the schedule of Chicken Sandwich for Lunch on Thursday. If she timed it right, she'd get him right at the moment when he realized one just wasn't enough.

"Wait," she cried as he opened up the fridge. Wolverine froze. "We wanna buy you ice cream."

Wolverine sighed. He was doing that a lot these days. "And by we, you mean you and the Cajun?"

"I can't drive," she informed him and couldn't help adding smugly, "that's totally all on you."

"You're gonna need to buy me a whole shop to make up for all the popsicles you jokers owe me."

"That's the spirit," she said, and they headed outside. There were halfway down the steps when Gambit came peeling around the corner. _Abort, abort_ , her brain chirped uselessly, but it was too late. Wolverine stopped at the bottom of the stairs as Gambit tilted his head back and smiled.

"Your chariot awaits," he drawled. 

"Gumbo, what the hell are you doing in my jeep?"

"Borrowing it," Gambit assured him. "Didn't seem right to force a man to drive to his own present."

The entire plan hinged on Gambit driving. She waited with bated breath as Wolverine and Gambit argued over the driver's seat. Rogue had once told her that Gambit could talk the horns off a billy goat, which Jubilee hadn't quite gotten at the time but totally got now. Wolverine actually gave in.

Wolverine climbed into the passenger seat and buckled himself in. "The quicker this heat breaks, the better," he grumbled. 

"That's the spirit," Gambit replied as he sped down the driveway, leaving dust in their wake. 

But that plan didn't work either. Wolverine lost it whenever Gambit even _thought_ about going over the speed limit – how he knew, Jubilee had no idea, but he definitely knew – and there was, like, zero useful wind, just heat and humidity and a hundred other terrible things (except Sentinels). And then, after all that, they arrived to find ice cream place closed for renovations.

"I'm driving home," Wolverine said, making it clear it wasn't up for debate, and snatched the keys back from Gambit's reluctant hands before either of them could suggest they try someplace else.

* * *

Wolverine drove them back to the mansion. None of them said anything as he parked the jeep, but Gambit gave her a conciliatory, _good try kid_ pat on the back as she squeezed out of the backseat. It was the sort of thing usually reserved by Wolverine, which just made her feel worse. 

Defeated, Jubilee headed inside. This was the end. There wasn't a Plan D. They'd given it their best go, but she guessed it just wasn't meant to be. Wolverine's hair would remain a mystery for all time, but she _hoped_ it was natural. He'd look mega weird if his hair _didn't_ do the thing. 

"You two wanna tell me what this last week's been about?" Wolverine asked as he locked up. 

"Not really," Jubilee said morosely. She knew she was acting like a baby, but she really hated losing, so sue her. She hadn't even gotten any ice cream for her efforts. She loved ice cream. 

"Gumbo?"

"Depends. How bad you wanna know?"

"Not bad enough to continue this conversation," Wolverine replied.

"That's fair." Gambit edged into Wolverine's space. "But hey, you got any more popsicles?"

"For you, Cajun, no," Wolverine said, batting away Gambit's face. Gambit backed off with a crooked grin. Jubilee couldn't tell if Gambit was still working the angle or just being annoying, but it was too hot to be that close to another human being. "But for the kid, I could be persuaded."

"Yes!" Jubilee said with a fist pump, her day instantly improved. 

"And if you both agree to leave my jeep _and_ my hair alone" – Jubilee and Gambit exchanged guilty looks – "I'll let you in on the mansion's best-kept secret," Wolverine added. They all leaned in conspiratorially. "Those were Cyclops', and I know where he keeps the rest of it."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song _Hair_. Shout out to both the Original Broadway Cast and the Cowsills for such a catchy tune.


End file.
